


Foggy Memory, Chaotic Heart

by TheLimeGreenMachine



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, M/M, Manipulation, Sex, domestic AU, mentions of sonia/gundam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:17:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLimeGreenMachine/pseuds/TheLimeGreenMachine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing. He can't remember anything. All there is in his head is the knowledge that he knows nothing and that he has strange feelings for this white-haired boy beside his bed. </p><p> </p><p>Hinata gets into an accident and forgets everything, losing all of the memories he ever had. Komaeda, feeling obligated to take care of him while he's vulnerable, learns that there are a lot of unsaid things between the two of them that could possibly work to his advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I : Memory Lost

**Author's Note:**

> this fic i've been working on for like. 2 months. it long. and yes theres also sex like wow this is probably the most graphic thing i've ever written (which doesn't say a whole lot). but the whole thing is done, which is a new method i'm trying out, because i've never finished a multichapter fic successfully before. i think it should work out just fine. i'll update the fic saturday night once a week, hopefully i won't forget or anything and updates won't be a problem. hope you enjoy it as much as i do!!
> 
> (as a side note, komaeda is the most difficult character to work with in the world)

When he woke up, he was alone in a calm, soft, blue-white room. His arms were tucked in nicely at his sides above a very warm, cozy white blanket. When he looked down at them, there were tubes and needles sticking to his skin, several in each arm. As he sat up there was suddenly an incredibly strong force banging against the inside of his head, like he was being repeatedly hit with a brick. Gasping, he slunk back down into his spot on the bed, regaining his breath as the hurt went away. 

While the throbbing pain in his skull subsided, he took a moment to observe himself. He wasn’t quite sure who he was, or where he was, but it seemed he was alone and he’d have to get himself out of the situation by himself. He decided to take things slow seeing as any other way would hurt a lot. He began by removing the blanket off of his body (which took quite a bit of effort considering how tightly it was tucked) and it fell to the floor. This time, he sat up slowly, taking things one step at a time, and he gently swung his legs to the side of the bed. He placed his feet on the floor one at a time and stood, his knees trembling, and the moment he took one step he collapsed and fell on the floor, causing all of the tubes to disconnect and machines (which he hadn’t really noticed) to go haywire. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, about five people rushed into the room, all shouting: either at him or at each other, he wasn’t sure. Two of them grabbed him under his arms while he kicked, nonsensical sounds tumbling out of his mouth. The other two were checking the machines that littered the room, and the fifth one had run out, leaving the door wide open. He was hoisted back into bed and pressed him down and reassured him that it’s okay, everything’s alright, we’re not going to hurt you, we’re here to help. By then he was already too worn out to fight them back any more and his head was pounding again. A man working on one of the machines pulled something off of his belt and spoke into it, saying, “The patient is awake, doctor. He seems to be a little out of it but he should be alright.” 

There was garbled speech in the other end that he couldn’t make out, so he decided it was of no importance anyhow. His eyelids drooped heavily as a woman adjusted one of the tubes going into his right arm. _I…guess I’m in a hospital,_ he thought, locking eyes with her. She gave him a pitiful smile and he rolled his head so he didn’t have to look at her. _This sucks._  

A few minutes later all of the people (who he figured were nurses) disbanded and left, leaving only the one that gave him the plastered smile milling about his room. Another woman walked into the room, wearing a long coat and professional attire, carrying a clipboard. “How are you feeling this morning, Hajime?” She asked, looking right at him and he froze. 

“M…Me?” he asked, pointing a bandaged hand to himself. He frowned. His voice sounded scratchy and unused. 

“Well, you are the only Hajime Hinata in here, are you not?” She emphasized. He decided he didn’t like these questions and felt cornered. 

“I…I don’t know,” he asked, scooting back further into his pillow. The woman furrowed her brow. She was prodding him and the more she stared the more uncomfortable he felt. Just as she opened her mouth to say something else, footsteps came from the open doorway and stopped right in his room. It was a boy and a girl, seemingly together, and they didn’t seem to be employees of the hospital considering their clothes. The boy immediately caught his gaze, looking extremely distressed. 

“H-Hajime…!” he said, rushing forward to the side of the bed, while the girl trailed behind wordlessly. The boy kneeled and grabbed his right hand in both of his, biting his lip and looking extremely guilty. “Hinata-kun…I cannot believe you are alright…I haven’t slept for days.” 

 _Hmm. I feel like I know these two,_ he thought. Well, maybe not he anymore – these people kept calling him Hajime and Hinata…so his name was Hajime Hinata. Or was it Hinata Hajime? That wasn’t important. At least he had one. 

Hinata looked up at the girl that stood quietly behind the boy, and he blinked slowly at her, asking her with his eyes to say something. She blinked back, just as slow and relaxed as he seemed to be. Finally, after the room quieted, she spoke. “I’m glad you’re okay.” And that seemed to be all she had to say, and somehow Hinata was fine with that. 

He turned his attention to the boy frantically clasping his hand. The doctor managed to get him into a chair so that the two were eye level, yet the boy refused to let go of him. He also wouldn’t take his eyes off of him. Hinata watched him as well, gently curling his hand around the boy’s and watching as his entire expression shifted from something anxious to something happily confused. His eyes were grey and had bags under them but they were still beautiful. His hair was tall and pale and it looked like a cloud. Hinata reached over and put a hand in it, wanting to feel what it was like, and the boy swallowed a bit. 

“Come here,” Hinata spoke, and the boy obliged without a question, resting his head against the edge of the bed. Hinata smiled lightly and reached over, running his hand through his hair, and when the boy sighed out of his nose it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Unfortunately the doctor chose the moment after that to begin talking again, and the girl turned her attention to her. The boy seemed to be listening as well, but with Hinata running his hands through his hair now he was practically purring. The doctor’s drawl was ignored by Hinata because the only thing he could take an interest in was the boy whose head was nearly in his lap and his hair was just so _soft_ and _oh wait they’ve stopped talking and they’re all looking at me_. 

“…What?” he asked, pausing his hand. The doctor sighed, looking at the girl, who seemed to be the only one fully listening, and they began to talk. He looked back at the boy whose cheek was pressing into his hand and decided to focus on him. He leaned in and spoke softly, almost inaudibly. “I like your hair.” 

The boy smiled. “I suppose the doctor was right. You don’t remember anything.” 

“No, I don’t think so,” he spoke lowly, scooting down in his bed to meet the sad boy’s eyes, “but I like you. I don’t know why but I know that I do.” The boy looked up and Hinata smiled. He smiled back. Actually, it was getting pretty annoying calling him “the boy” in his mind over and over. “What’s your name?” 

“Komaeda,” was his name, but he wasn’t the one that gave it to Hinata. It was the pink-haired girl, trying to get his attention. “The doctor wants to know where Hinata is going to stay. He’s being discharged tonight.” 

“Um,” Komaeda stuttered, taking a moment to think. “He can stay in my apartment for the night until we figure out something else.” Komaeda had to stand up and receive instructions from the woman in the white coat, so Hinata couldn’t talk to him anymore. He frowned and impatiently waited to get his attention back before finally the white-haired boy leaned down and murmured, “I have somes paper to fill out. I’ll be back in a little bit, okay? You’ll be fine,” he assured, speaking slowly as if Hinata were a child. He frowned again and rolled his head away immaturely, grunting in response. 

The girl moved to the side of the bed after Komaeda had exited the room with the doctor, taking his seat. “Hello, Hinata-kun. You don’t look too well,” she observed. There was a pause of silence before she continued. “Do you know who I am?” 

“Are you…his girlfriend? No,” he said, quickly shaking that thought away, finding it somewhat disturbing. “You’re…are we…?” 

She smiled warmly, almost knowingly, hands rested calmly on her knees. “No, nothing like that. I’m Chiaki Nanami, a friend from high school. And the boy that just left is Nagito Komaeda, whom you’ve known longer than me. None of us are in a relationship with each other,” Nanami nodded, and that statement both calmed him down and also sank something in his stomach. She spoke slowly but not condescending, and Hinata felt comfortable in her presence because he quickly realized that was just how she spoke. “Do those names sound familiar?” 

“Yeah, I think so…” he groaned, slowly sitting up so as not to restart the beating drum in his head again. “Sounds about right.” 

“Good,” Nanami hummed, and then reached for the saddle bag hanging at her hip. She dug through it for a moment before pulling out a small compact mirror and opening it to hand it to him. “You should see yourself to put a face to a name.” He took the object out of her hands and began to observe himself for the first time. 

 _Huh. So that’s what I look like,_ was his first thought. The person called Hajime Hinata was relatively young, with dark, short, rough hair. His eyes were strikingly green and large, and looking right at himself made him shudder because of the intensity and harshness of his own stare. By looking at himself, Hinata deduced that he seemed to be a pretty serious person. However, what Nanami had said earlier remained correct, because he looked _horrible_. There was a large bandage taped to the right side of his forehead, and he was a bit sweaty from all of the moving around he’d been doing, making the little bangs he had stick to his skin. There was also a horrid ring of purple under his right eye, framing it and making him look just about as exhausted as he felt. After confirming his appearance, he turned back to her and said simply, “I look like shit.” 

This seemed to amuse her, but he wasn’t sure why. “That’s fine. You were in a pretty bad accident. Your face should clear up in time. Your memory, however…” her face fell back to a neutral expression. “That remains to be seen, I guess.” 

“What happened exactly?” Hinata questioned, handing her back the mirror. “I…don’t know anything. I can’t remember anything at all about myself or any of you.” The headache was coming back, and it felt ugly, but he ignored it. 

“Oh, I think you got in a car accident with Souda last Monday. He hasn’t given anyone any details so no one is really sure, but you were hit the worst,” she said, and he had a feeling that this Souda person was someone that he was supposed to know as well. For a brief, fleeting moment, there was a feeling of self-satisfaction because it seemed like he knew a lot of people. After the emotion quickly subsided, he showed her a look of confusion. She merely explained that this Kazuichi Souda was a mechanic down at a local garage that also knew him from high school. Which reminded him to ask: just how old was he anyways? 

Just as he was about to find a way to phrase the question, Komaeda returned with a stack of papers in his hands, all of them disorganized and slightly crinkled. His expression was no longer the blissful one that it had been when Hinata was roaming his hand through his hair, but he looked extremely stressed and frazzled. He stood still for a moment, scanning the room, before sighing in frustration and setting the papers down on the foot of the bed on top of Hinata’s legs. 

Nanami shifted in her chair, focusing her attention back on the white-haired boy. “Komaeda.” 

He didn’t seem to be listening, however: his face, though distressed, was concentrated, as he shifted through papers among papers, mumbling under his breath. He brought a pencil out of his coat pocket, occasionally scribbling things down onto the individual papers. When he came to the last one, he audibly sighed, signing it with a scrawling signature. He turned to Nanami. “Custody papers...and doctor’s orders. And prescriptions. And phone numbers.” He smiled wanly. “It feels like I’m walking out with the entire staff and medicine cabinet in my pocket.” 

“So what’s the plan, then?” She asked, standing out of her chair to get a glimpse of the pile of papers scattered over Hinata’s legs. 

“Hinata-kun comes home with me and I oversee…well, basically everything that he does,” he sighed again, heavier this time. Hinata noticed after looking closer that Komaeda was young, too, probably around his age. He didn’t look it at first glance, however, considering the heavy bags under his eyes and his lanky, tall, and almost awkward figure. Almost. “He is discharged at eight and from there we can go home.” 

“I’ll drive,” she spoke again, helping him organize the papers and place them onto his clipboard (when did that get there?). “You’ll probably need a bit of time to get things in order in your head, taking care of him and all.” 

“Hey, I know I probably don’t get a good chance of interjecting right now,” Hinata interrupted, getting both their attention, “considering that I can’t remember a damn thing. But I know that I’m really, _really_ hungry. So that’d be great.” 

The pink-haired girl smiled a bit, finishing up with the papers in her hand. “We’ll stop somewhere on the way to Komaeda’s apartment. Hopefully you’ll recognize it when you get there.” 

Komaeda’s facial features had relaxed just a bit as he collected the papers from the bed and put them in Nanami’s hands, seeming eager for some peace. She offered to pull up the car and finalize the papers for him and he obliged happily, returning to his spot beside Hinata’s bed. “I never even thought to ask how you were feeling.” 

“Like I got hit with a truck,” Hinata muttered, the headache still present in the back of his mind. Though it wasn’t as much of an exaggeration as it seemed, Komaeda tried not to visibly wince and instead humored him with a smile. He recognized that it wasn’t real, however, because it looked like the same type of smile that that stupid nurse gave him as she shoved a tube in his arm. “Sorry, I mean…my head hurts.” 

“It’s fine,” he spoke, eyes wandering to his hands again. “This is probably the most affection that you have ever shown me, Hinata-kun. It’s actually quite wonderful,” he smiled a bit, the emotion just barely tugging at the corner of his mouth. Komaeda continued on. “I…hope you don’t mind me taking the incentive and taking custody of you until you get better. It only seemed fair for the amount of times that you had taken care of me.” 

“How long have we known each other?” 

Something sparked in Komaeda’s eyes, and his smile seemed to grow a bit more genuine. “Ever since we were in fourth grade. You took pity on me being the new kid in the school.” 

“Hmm,” Hinata hummed, lying back down and shutting his eyes. “Will you stay here until I get better?” 

“Yeah,” he heard Komaeda say, but he already felt far away. His medication seemed to be kicking in and the darkness behind his eyes made him feel like he was swimming. He knew that Komaeda was still speaking and vaguely felt the presence of their hands touching, but he was already too close to sleep to care. Somehow he thought that Komaeda knew he wasn’t listening anymore, but didn’t care.


	2. II : Memory Probed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Komaeda realizes that the Hinata that sleeps in his bed may not be the same Hinata he grew up with. At least, not right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy saturday. it was really hard to resist posting this early but i did it (even though its saturday morning not saturday night). this chapter is kind of short, but whatever. slice of life thing or you know. i also really love cafe settings. best cliche of all time

Nagito Komaeda hadn’t slept properly in days. He had taken the liberty of giving Hinata his bed and taking his old beat up futon in his living room which was too small for him and made his back hurt. What was just going to be one night of staying together turned into two nights, then three, and eventually Komaeda gave up in trying to coax Hinata back to his own apartment that he’d lived in during college and just let Hinata make himself comfortable. 

Living with his best friend with amnesia wasn’t as horrible as he thought it would have been. When Hinata couldn’t sleep because of the raging headaches he got, Komaeda would sit next to him in his bed and answer every question he had about himself. When he ran out of questions to ask Komaeda would tell him stories, all of the stories he could think of to try and get him some short term peace of mind. He started with his favorites, and when Hinata would interrupt him to ask questions, they would branch off into more and more stories. 

He was in the middle of the time that Souda broke into the girl’s locker room in high school when Hinata sat up, which was something that he didn’t really do whenever he had one of his headaches. Komaeda trailed off, observing as the other boy’s green eyes trained on him, eyelids low. He spoke quietly, voice just above a croak, “You seem to know a lot about me. Things that I don’t even think I would have known about myself.” 

Silence reigned through the room as the white haired boy tried to think of a suitable response to that. It had been a well-known fact in their group of friends that Komaeda had developed a crush on Hinata sometime during the awkward seventh grade stage, but he had learned to get over it during freshman year when Nanami made the suggestion. In fact, it was something that he hadn’t really considered in a while, just prodded at it every now and then when he was reliving memories. But to such a question he had no answer. He could only helplessly agree. “…Hmm, um, yes, I suppose.” 

Hinata was moving closer to him faster than he could think and all Komaeda registered was the fact that he felt _scared_. He was completely aware that this could or couldn’t be the Hinata that he knew so well, better than the back of his own hand: the Hinata that called him stupid in fourth grade when he purposely isolated himself from everyone else in their class, the Hinata that he realized he’s become attracted to during seventh grade gym class when they were playing basketball and Komaeda saw his shirt ride up. So right as their lips were close, Komaeda stuttered as fast as he could, “U-Uhm, H-Hinata-kun, I don’t think that this is smart because we’ve known each other for so long and this w-would definitely ruin something and you aren’t really thinking straight right now and you should probably get some rest –” 

It seemed that the brunette had every intention of ignoring Komaeda and going right along with what he wanted, but the moment that Komaeda began babbling the whole endeavor seemed pointless and Hinata laid back down, the pain in his head returned. Komaeda leaned over him, watching his expression twist in pain, and he mumbled, “I, I’ll go get your medication, Hajime.” 

“If you didn’t want to kiss me, you could have told me,” he spoke, wincing all the while. He wiped his forehead, squinting his eyes open to glance at the other boy before closing them again. “I wouldn’t have been offended. I don’t care.” 

“No, that, that isn’t it, you know…” the other protested. It was weak, but it was still protest. “I don’t believe that you’ve remembered enough to make the decision to…kiss me, Hinata-kun. My opinions are not important,” he murmured, standing. “They never were. That’s alright.” 

“Do you really think that?” Hinata squinted an eye open again. 

“Ah, yes. It’s alright,” he assured, smiling a bit before leaving the room. He returned a moment later with a glass of soda and Hinata’s evening medication. As he took it, Komaeda spoke again. “It’s always been that way, with you saying something and me agreeing to it. I am not high enough of a person to really make a decision otherwise.” 

“Well,” Hinata swallowed the rest of his drink and set the glass down with a clink, locking eyes with Komaeda, “whatever that means, just know that everything is still on the table. You make the decision for when you want to kiss me and I’ll accept it.” He smiled wryly, lying back down. “It’ll be alright. Look, I don’t know if this is what I would have done before the accident happened, but it’s what I’m doing now.” With that, Hinata curled up under the three blankets he had in the bed and flipped over, mumbling a goodnight. Komaeda turned out the light and left the room, flustered, confused, and a bit elated. 

Komaeda’s will was extremely lacking. He woke Hinata up two hours later and took him up on his offer. 

* * *

 “You did what?” Nanami asked him, resting her arms on the table and leaning on them. She raised an eyebrow and Komaeda nervously sipped his coffee as Gundam and Sonia returned from the counter with their order. He turned his gaze to the rim of his cup, trying to ignore her question, and he listened as Gundam and Sonia’s conversation died down. 

The four of them had met at a corner coffee shop while Hinata went to his first doctor’s appointment down the street. Komaeda figured that he had some spare time, reassuring Hinata that he’d be back as soon as it was over, and asked several people to meet him so he could at least attempt and relax. Souda hadn’t shown up, but it seemed that was normal, as he apparently hadn’t gone out much since the accident. 

“What is this?” Sonia asked, sitting down next to Nanami and looking at her. “What has Komaeda done?” 

She intensified her stare on him, and he picked up his coffee again only to burn himself. “Yes, why doesn’t Komaeda tell us what he’s done?” 

“…I kissed Hinata-kun,” he mumbled, picking a point on the wall and deciding to stare it down instead of looking at the two girls opposite him. “Last week.” 

Gundam, who before had been wordlessly listening while sipping his water, picked up the conversation. “How interesting…the pink haired one had informed me of your infatuation with him…I thought it had long passed.” Everyone paused for a minute, trying to figure out if Gundam meant Nanami or Souda. 

“He started it,” the grey-eyed boy muttered irritably, deciding to give up on cooling his coffee and settling for swirling it with a straw instead. “I swear. He tried to kiss me first and then…” Komaeda sighed, deciding to change the subject. “Can someone explain why Souda isn’t leaving his house?” 

Sonia took a bite of her cookie and a drink of her coffee. “Souda-kun says he feels guilty about what happened. But I also think it has to do with an injury he sustained during the car accident.” She smiled innocently, as if they were talking about something entirely different. “I believe he said he has to wear a cast for several months.” 

“Well,” Nanami murmured under her breath, “at least he remembers what happened. Is there any way that either of you can get him to tell us what happened?” She looked to Sonia and Gundam, and the latter chuckled lowly. 

“Of course,” he rumbled, absently running a finger along his bandaged arm, “for what kind of Overlord would I be if I could not bend the will of those around me to suit the needs of the many? Fear not, my friend, for my Four Dark Gods of Destruction and I will figure out the truth behind this happening.” Komaeda smiled at him absently, attempting to turn all of Gundam’s words to something normal in his head. “When judgment day is nigh, I may guarantee that all of you will be safe from harm.” Nanami glanced at Komaeda, and the two seemed to share the same thoughts: neither of them were quite sure what that meant. But he appreciated it nonetheless. 

Just then, his pocket vibrated, and he pulled his phone out to see a text from Hinata. Actually, it wasn’t a text, it was more jumbled letters attempting to look like words. Komaeda hummed. “Hinata-kun is finished with his appointment. I need to go.” He stood from his chair and pushed it in, picking up what remained of his coffee. “He’ll get anxious if I’m not quick.” 

“Do you need a ride?” Nanami called when he was halfway to the door. He shook his head, partially ignoring her, partially wanting to walk anyways. It was beautiful outside, and he thought that both he and Hinata could use the exercise anyways. 

By the time he arrived at the doctor’s office, Hinata had been sitting in a corner chair by himself, nervously toying with the hem of his sweater. His expression brightened slightly upon seeing the taller man walk into the clinic, coffee cup still pressed to his lips. Komaeda walked over to where he sat and smiled crookedly. “How was it?” 

“Invasive,” he answered, standing and already making his way to the door. Komaeda trailed behind and met him at the front, and the two walked together down the street. Hinata glanced at the other several times as he drank his coffee before continuing on. “They told me I should probably go to see a psychiatrist or something to help me with my memory.” He hummed in response, and Hinata blurted, “Can I try some of that?” 

Komaeda raised an eyebrow, gesturing to his coffee. “This? Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” he said, determination in his voice. The white haired man obliged, handing him the cup and telling him to be careful. He brought the paper cup to his lips and took a gentle sip, tasting it whole on his tongue, before coughing and wiping his mouth repeatedly. “Ugh, ewh…that’s disgusting. How do you drink that?” 

“Good to see you still hate coffee,” he smiled, taking the cup back and swiftly finishing what remained, then tossing it into a nearby trash can. “It can be pretty bad at times, but the stronger it is the more it wakes me up. I haven’t been sleeping well.” 

“Why?” Hinata stopped walking, right in the middle of the midday sidewalk crowd, who pushed around him anyways. Komaeda made his way back to him and looked at him, pulling him aside gently. 

“What?” 

“Don’t do that,” he scolded, no hint of joking anywhere in his tone. His green eyes flashed and the taller swallowed a bit. “You know what.” 

He sighed in defeat, absently running a hand through his hair. “Well, uh, I’ve been worried about you ever since the car accident and I know I didn’t want to say anything but that couch _really_ hurts my back…” He was stopped short by a hand latching onto his arm and beginning to walk again, pulling him forward. 

“Take the bed back,” he suggested, glancing up at him. “I could use the company.” 

“It’s a one person bed.” 

“That’s fine,” he murmured, a grin pulling up at the corner of his mouth. They walked for a little while before Hinata admitted he didn’t know where he was going and he was pretty sure they were lost, but Komaeda reassured him and told him they were in the right direction. He praised him and let him hold onto his arm, and by the time they got home Hinata was exhausted, though it was only one. He fell asleep on Komaeda’s shoulder around two when they were watching some stupid rom-com.


	3. III : Memory Misjudgment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata goes to see a psychiatrist to deal with his amnesia and possibly help him remember more. During his appointment he realizes something, and Komaeda realizes something too: Hinata is really good with his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shameless smut. okay maybe not shameless im embarrassed as hell. this moved really fast but i just wanted to try my hand at writing something like that. also i couldnt wait til saturday ugh. hope you like jin kirigiri

Hinata was sitting in a cramped up, twenty year old, disgusting building that Komaeda had dropped him off in, waiting for the receptionist with the ugly glasses to finish filing his paperwork so he could meet his doctor (or _another_ doctor, he should say, considering it was the fifth appointment he’d been to in a month). Even if he thought that psychiatry was bullshit he was there on the doctor’s orders and he wouldn’t be able to pull off lying that he’d actually gone. He couldn’t really leave anyhow, considering he was alone, he had amnesia, and he had no idea how to get home from this dumpy place. 

After spending five long minutes watching a man rock back in forth in his chair and bite his nails, his name was finally called. The receptionist, along with her ugly glasses, had a voice like nails on a chalkboard. “So, I need to confirm some things, sweetie. Your name, again?” 

“Hajime Hinata,” he spoke after a moment, mentally confirming it. 

“Date of birth?” 

 _Shit_. That was something he hadn’t thought to ask anyone about. He knew that his doctor had written it down on one of the sheets but he didn’t have it memorized yet. There was really only one option, and although it looked shady, he mumbled, “Can I see that?” and then he turned around one of his papers. “Um, January 1 st.” 

She raised an eyebrow and lowered her glasses condescendingly. “You don’t know your own birthday, sir?” 

“No,” he stated simply, “and I probably will have a hard time remembering the answers to any other questions you ask me.” He hated that look in her eyes, as if he thought she was the stupidest person in the world. Maybe it was because he was groggy and wasn’t really in the mood to put up with something like this, but he irritably jabbed a finger at the box labeled “Why Are You Here?” and pushed it towards her. 

“Oh,” was all that she said, and somehow that was a little bit worse. “I see. So sorry, dearie, I’ll send you back right away.” She gestured to the door to the back part of the office. “Down the hallway, it’s the third door on the left. Feel better, now.” 

 _I’m not sick_ , he thought with a huff, following her directions, _I just can’t remember anything about myself._   

The session, as he’d predicted, was boring. His psychiatrist was a nice older man with dark hair, the edges just greying slightly. He introduced himself as Dr. Kirigiri, claiming that he had a daughter around Hinata’s age that had attended school one year below him. Hinata thought that was a bit funny, because if that was true, he wouldn’t have been able to confirm it anyways. Admittedly, there was one part of the hour he found somewhat enjoyable once he struggled past the introductions. Dr. Kirigiri asked if there was anyone important to him and he ended up mentioning Komaeda once or twice (or six times, if he was counting correctly). The doctor handed him a sheet of paper and a huge box of crayons and told him to color on the paper using the colors of how he felt about his friend. 

He ended up doing exactly what the doctor told him to do, picking out all of the colors that described how he felt. His first color, surprisingly enough, was a soft grey, smack dab in the middle of the paper: the color of his eyes. Surrounded by that grey were various shades of red and yellow and purple, all fusing together to form some kind of backwards sunset. All on that stupid sheet of printer paper were his feelings for Komaeda poured out and there weren’t even any words on it. After staring at the paper for an extended amount of time, Dr. Kirigiri cleared his throat, and Hinata handed it over. He received a knowing smile, saying nothing, because everything that didn’t show on the paper was clear in the way Hinata looked at it. 

Komaeda finally picked him when his appointment ended around ten thirty, walking into the building just as his new psychiatrist was escorting him out. He asked, “Is that your friend you were talking about?” and Hinata just mumbled “yeah”, embarrassed to be caught in the act. The white-haired boy broke out into a large smile and walked up to him. 

“You must be Hajime’s newest doctor,” he spoke with authority and dignity in his voice, as if he was a parent meeting his child’s new teacher for the first time. The doctor nodded and held out a hand, which he shook firmly and said, “My name is Nagito Komaeda. I’m his, ah…caretaker, for the moment.” 

“Ah, he didn’t mention that you two lived together.” 

“Of course. He isn’t recovered enough to live alone.” 

 _This is bad_. “Yes, well, alright, we should get going because it’s getting late and we – I have some things to do later and –”   

“It’s fine,” Dr. Kirigiri smiled calmly. “Our next appointment is…when?” 

“Two weeks,” he and Komaeda answered simultaneously. Hinata could feel his face getting redder and Komaeda’s shit eating grin grow wider. 

“Right. Take care, you two,” he waved, and went back into the hallway. 

Hinata and Komaeda walked out together, with the latter still grinning like a wolf and the former’s hands shoved into his pockets. It was a breezy November morning, with the wind picking up and clouds rolling about overhead. Komaeda wasn’t proud of himself too often, but this time he felt he had a right to be, so he let Hinata pout as long as he wanted. Normally if a situation like this had occurred before, Hinata would have denied it furiously and pushed away any advances Komaeda would try to take. 

But his face had since mellowed out and the red from his cheeks and ears had disappeared, leaving a face deep in thought. The taller one frowned. It was kind of difficult to feel satisfied about something if he didn’t get the joy of teasing him about it. Just as he was about to open his mouth and ask what happened, the words tumbled out of Hinata’s mouth. “I have to tell you something.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“That hour in therapy was absolutely horrible,” he spoke, “but it did help me realize something.” 

“…Okay. Go on.” Komaeda stopped walking and pulled him aside, under the awning of an antique shop. Whichever direction this was heading in was either really good or really bad, possibly a mixture of both. Hinata looked him right in the eyes and said exactly what he was thinking as bluntly as he could. 

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.” 

And there it was, right on the table, out in the open. Komaeda had only fantasized about hearing those words in his voice for, oh, only all of seventh and eighth grade. Amazingly, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him and he’d been hoisted into the air, dangling like a fish out of water. He was so breathless for so long that he saw Hinata begin to grow distressed before he finally answered him. “A-Ah…my apologies, Hinata-kun…hearing you say those words was more breathtaking than I anticipated.” 

There were hands on Komaeda’s face in the next moment, cradling him and bringing him closer. The kiss was different this time: it wasn’t as long as their first one, but it was definitely deeper and warmer. So deep and warm that a passerby honked and Hinata broke away, face flushed with Komaeda’s eyes on him. He mumbled something and they were on their way home again like nothing happened. 

As soon as they walked in the door, thunder rumbled deeply in the sky above them, and Hinata swore to himself and hurried inside. As Komaeda locked the door he noticed the boy sharing his apartment curled up on the couch underneath a blanket, trying to lock out the oncoming storm. “Are you alright?” he asked, but was ignored. He joined him on the couch and tried to catch his eye. 

“I don’t like storms,” he grumbled, staring at the blank TV in front of him. “I don’t know why, I just don’t.” 

“Hmm. That’s a first, because I don’t know either.” Komaeda moved a bit closer, pressing his body heat against the other boy, and murmured, “You should at least take off your shoes.” 

“Right, I just –” Hinata moved to do just what he said and turned to see the taller one inches from his face. He swallowed audibly, and tried to ignore him, kicking off his shoes and slipping off his jacket before arms inevitably wrapped around him. 

They pulled him in flush against the other’s abdomen, and he laid down and stared at the ceiling as he spoke. “I’m not quite sure why you’re afraid of thunderstorms. It isn’t something that I knew you feared before. But I’ll stay here with you until it’s over, alright?” Komaeda craned his head to look at him, and Hinata awkwardly flopped around in his hold until his chin was on his chest. 

“Distract me,” he mumbled, pressing his ear down to listen to his heart. 

“Alright…I’m not sure if I’ve told you this yet,” the corners of his mouth turned up into a grin, “but when we were in seventh grade together, I had developed this…adoration for you. We were in gym class together, and…” he trailed off, not exactly wanting to get into details. “I used to think about you every night before I fell asleep and every morning when I woke up.” Komaeda began to grow lost in his memories, absently running a hand up the brunette’s back, voice a bit deeper. “Things didn’t get bad until freshman year…you slept at my house one night while we were doing a history project. I thought you looked so peaceful, so I…touched myself while you were sleeping. And I woke up the next day and you asked me why my shirt was riding up and my jeans were unbuttoned…” he chuckled, suddenly aware of the weight of Hinata’s head on his torso. 

Something shifted in the air at that moment, and it was noticeable for the both of them. Hinata moved so that he was chest to chest with him, staring down at him nonthreateningly. There was something in his eyes that Komaeda wasn’t sure he’d seen before. “Tell me what you did,” and he spoke it like a command. 

A chill went up Komaeda’s spine, and he was sure the green-eyed boy on top of him felt it, but he did as he was asked. “You’d fallen asleep right in the middle of a sentence, collapsing back onto my bed, long gone. And I moved closer, listening to you breathe…” he reached up, cupping his cheek and watching as Hinata pressed his hand into his face and he could feel his warm, soft breath on his palm. “For a while all I could do was watch your chest rise and fall, until eventually I looked at your mouth.” He brushed the pad of his thumb across Hinata’s lower lip, feeling excitement rise. 

“I looked at your lips, parted just slightly, exhaling quietly…” Komaeda tried to sit up to show him just how bad he had wanted him that night (how bad he wanted him now, too) but he was firmly pushed down with one hand. “Then I started to imagine how those pretty little lips of yours would look around my cock, moaning while you took me down your throat…” It was getting a little hard to control himself, but at least the man on top of him didn’t seem to be paying attention to the storm. Komaeda was having a hard time paying attention himself, what with the pressure inside of his jeans. 

“Yeah?” Hinata growled on top of him, adjusting himself so that he was straddling the other’s hips. He gasped and hissed below him, trying desperately to get some friction but being held down. “Keep going. This is a good look for you.” The brunette took in the sight of the white-haired man below him with his hips squirming relentlessly. 

“You were helpless,” he grunted, “and I could have done anything. But I settled with my visions…imagining you sucking me off…and I started to palm myself.” As he spoke, Hinata reached down between their legs and placed a hand right on the bulge in Komaeda’s jeans, and he pressed down _hard_ , so hard that Komaeda was sure he nearly saw stars. He felt every inch of his body scream because he couldn’t believe Hinata was actually _touching_ him, stroking him. “I-I rubbed myself though my clothes, growing excited quicker and quicker and even – ahh – letting myself moan a bit and you could have, mmh, woken up at _any moment_ …” he was moving faster now, his warm hand cupping a now obvious length. 

“It kept on like that until I couldn’t take it anymore, and I, I unzipped my pants and exposed myself –” and that’s exactly what Hinata was doing to him, and Komaeda moaned like a painted whore as a hand ran down his already slick member, stroking it roughly. “– and I went at it, right there, my hand moving fast as I watched you sleep, and I’d felt like I was invading your privacy but I was so far gone – ahh…!” 

And at that point Komaeda was so far gone that he was needlessly pushing up into Hinata’s hand through half-lidded eyes, trying his best to watch as his best friend pumped his cock. It looked like he was trying not to be affected, but his breath was just the slightest bit quicker and the moment that Komaeda moaned his name, he got down onto his elbows and took the other into his mouth. 

 _That_ was the moment that he saw stars behind his eyelids, feeling nothing but the white hot pressure of Hinata’s lips stretched tight across his erection, at first lapping at him to get a feel, then taking him down his throat and sucking, sucking – not _just_ sucking but grazing his teeth down the shaft as he moved his head, and Komaeda managed to free his shaking hands and run them through Hinata’s hair, fucked his mouth. His climax was pooling in his stomach and he was so _close_ right when his calm façade broke down and he was practically sobbing by the time he hit his peak. He came so hard that for about half a minute afterwards he forgot to breathe and his next exhalation was stuck right in his throat, and he was heaving the moment he remembered. 

Hinata sat up, swallowing the fluid in his mouth and wiping it. Komaeda’s skin had a beautiful sheen of sweat and his shirt had been pushed up, his soft cock tucked back away. “I think I have a pretty good picture of what you looked like when you woke up. Actually…” he shut his eyes, focusing hard, and Komaeda was still coming down from the best high he’d ever had to really notice. “…wait. Yeah. I remember that morning.” 

He undeniably registered that, sitting up so fast they almost bonked heads. “Y-You remember something…?!” 

“Yeah. I do,” he smiled softly, pressing their foreheads together. “I can’t believe you jerked off in front of me, you asshole.” 

Komaeda had never felt so ridiculously happy than he did in that moment. He wrapped his arms around Hinata tightly and nearly suffocated him on accident, and he started crying. Genuine, open weeping. There he was, sobbing like a baby because his best friend just remembered probably the most pointless thing that he could have remembered but it was still a start and it was wonderful. He was definitely not crying because all of those dumb wet dreams he used to have had all just come true in the span of about eight minutes and his best friend had just sucked him off without a question. Nope. Not Komaeda. 


	4. IV : Memory Recollections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata is beginning to remember things, and Komaeda visits an old friend to find out the truth of just how Hinata lost his memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha NOW its saturday. lil bit of souda in this chapter because damn. i love. love writing hick souda. and i dont know why. it doesnt even seem to completely fit but if i just imagine him with a southern accent he becomes 2470923 times easier to write. its awesome

Little things began to come back to Hinata. Simple, insignificant memories here and there that would help him piece together his personality. They would lay down together at night and Hinata would go over the things he’d remembered, over and over, just verifying that they were real. When the memories stopped coming, he began to have dreams. They were all very vague and hazy, but he liked describing the faces that he saw and having Komaeda talk about them. 

It began with a simple statement. “Komaeda…I keep seeing people in my dreams. People I feel like I should know.” He was lying on the other’s shoulder in bed, groggily reaching for his hand. “It’s…pretty annoying.” He yawned. 

“Really…?” The grey-eyed boy returned the yawn, speaking lazily. “Tell me who you see.” 

“There’s…” Hinata strained to remember, running a hand through his short hair. “There’s this guy. He’s wearing a beanie and his hair is…bright pink?” He groaned. “Ugh, what the hell…is that even _real_?” 

Komaeda chuckled, like thunder rumbling low in his chest. He curled his hand into Hinata’s. “Yes. That is Souda-kun. And yes, he does have pink hair.” He took a moment, letting the words sink in before saying what he was truly thinking. “…Souda-kun was the one driving the car when it crashed.” 

“Oh,” was all that was said, and they were both silent for a moment, before they shifted at the same time and moved closer. “Alright…how about a girl? Not the purple-haired one, um, what was her name again…?” 

“Nanami.” 

“Yeah, no, not her. But she’s blonde. Really long hair…tall. And she’s with someone else…some other guy. And he’s kind of weird looking…” 

“Sonia and Gundam,” he smiled again, “respectively. It’s good that you’re starting to remember faces. Now you just need names.” 

“Are they…?” 

“Mhmm,” he hummed. 

“It’s…weird,” Hinata sighed, breath flowing across Komaeda’s neck. “I know all of these people. I know that I’ve met them all before. There are so many faces crammed into my head, but there are no names to go along with them…for all I know, you could be lying to me about them all. Mixing them all up so that if I actually ever get out of here then everyone will laugh at me.” 

“Now, why would I do that?” He murmured, moving the hand under his back to move it through the brunette’s hair. “Though it may be interesting, it’s too childish for me.” 

“You wouldn’t do it,” the other shimmied up again, chin on Komaeda’s shoulder and words on his lips. “I trust you.” 

And that seemed to be all Hinata had to say, because they were kissing in the next moment and Komaeda’s hands were under his shirt. His luck was increasing, he realized, and right now with his best friend moaning under him seemed to be the peak of it all. Komaeda fell asleep that night with a nagging feeling in his stomach, knowing that for him, when things were seemingly the best they could be, bad luck would follow close behind. 

* * *

 

It seemed that Komaeda had a bit of time alone to himself. Hinata was at one of his doctor’s appointments, and though he had offered, he’d asked if Komaeda could leave him by himself. Just as he was leaving the doctor’s office, he received a message from Nanami, reading: _souda hasnt come out of his room in 2 weeks. go talk to him_

Nanami choosing Komaeda to shake Souda out of his funk was unusual, considering that when Hinata wasn’t around Souda generally wanted nothing to do with him. Hinata was the core reason that the two were even seen together to begin with, and the fact that he now had no memories of ever knowing Souda made the whole relationship triangle a problem, so to speak. But regardless of all of that running through Komaeda’s mind (and it definitely did, considering he didn’t really want to do it), he followed the directions that Nanami sent him and found himself at Souda’s doorstep. 

Souda lived in a shitty apartment complex in the corner of the city, where it was always freezing and prices were cheap. He recalled him mentioning once that it was only about three blocks from the garage where he scraped up cash for a living, insisting that even though he wasn’t wallowing in bills he was doing what he loved. The sidewalks and roads way out here, Komaeda noted, were all cracked and dented and absolutely littered with potholes. There were a lot of cars that seemed to have not been used in a while, with open hoods and missing tires. The people seemed to be decent, however, even if they smelled of smoke when Komaeda passed them with a reluctant greeting. Once he finally found Souda’s front door (drenched in horrid, chipped brown paint), he knocked once, twice, and three times. Now all there was to do was wait. 

He waited impatiently for a little bit before the door opened, and the moment it did Komaeda pulled his scarf up slightly to cover his face a bit more. Behind the door stood Souda, slouched and dirty, clad in a white tank-top (donned with several stains) and his rolled down yellow jumpsuit he used for work. His hair was not as vibrant as it was the last time Komaeda had seen it; its color was beginning to fade. On his right arm was a heavy pink cast that leaned against the wall. 

“You sure as hell aren’t my Chinese food,” the other grumbled, and went to shut the door. Right before it slammed shut, however, Komaeda jammed his foot into the doorway and smiled, albeit a bit coldly. 

“Are you dying, Souda? Your hair isn’t as pink as usual, has something happened?” He cocked his head and Souda made a noise of disgust. “It was a game we all used to play in high school, you know. The more faded your hair was, the more likely something bad was going to happen.” 

“I don’t need your bullshit, Komaeda, its cold outside and you’re letting my heat out. What do you want?” 

“May I come in?” He offered, holding out a hand. “I’ll try and make it brief. I know you have…important things to do.” Though it seemed quite the opposite, obviously. Souda’s truck was weighed down with snow, sitting with icicles connected to the pavement.  

“Sure,” he sighed, leaving it at that and beginning to head back inside. Komaeda cautiously stepped inside, avoiding the pile of miscellaneous shoes strewn about at the door, and shut it behind him. Souda moved inside and sat down at the counter to his small kitchen, drawing a can of Dr. Pepper over to him and clumsily opening it. “Man, it fuckin’ sucks not being able to use my right hand…” he took a begrudged sip of his drink as Komaeda awkwardly sat down in the stool next to him. “So why’re you here?” 

“Have you spoken to anyone lately?” Komaeda questioned, adjusting his scarf again. “People are beginning to worry. Why haven’t you left, anyways? It’s obvious you’ve been working, but you haven’t even let anyone know you’re okay. Why is that?” 

“Excuse me, but last time I checked no one really gave a shit,” Souda pointed an accusatory finger, leaning on the counter. “But yeah, I have talked to a couple of people. Gundam tried calling me the other day and spouted some nonsense that I can’t really remember. Said I needed to come out? Whatever. Anyway, it was the same stuff you’re sayin’ now.” He finished off his soda and pushed the empty can across the counter and into the sink, where there were at least a dozen other cans. 

Komaeda stiffened, suddenly aware of how out of place he felt in Souda’s apartment. There were many prevalent smells in the air, but the most pungent seemed to either be oil or burnt popcorn. He cleared his throat to lessen the silence. “Yes, but it’s been almost a month since the car accident. Even Saionji is worried about you, and…well, that’s saying something, you know? She’s got more to worry about in her last year of high school.” That was kind of a lie, considering that Saionji hadn’t even once mentioned the word “worry” in regards to Souda, but a little embellishment never hurt. 

That seemed to take him by surprise, anyways. “Really? Well…huh. Guess she might have a heart after all.” He looked as if he were going to reach for another soda, but paused at the last moment and decided against it. “I haven’t gone out for a couple reasons. One, because this cast is gaudy and can pretty much be used like a cinderblock. And two, it’s just…I feel bad. About Hinata.” That kind of struck a chord in Komaeda’s chest. “It was kind of my fault, you know?” 

“Actually, I don’t, and while I was here…can I get clarification for what happened?” 

The air seemed to lighten up a bit and Souda nodded. “Yeah, sure. It, um, kinda started after I’d finished a repair on this really, really nice car. It was a Jaguar, and I’d never seen anything like it…sleek and black and I’d just given it a wax, too.” He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “Hinata dropped by the garage around…three, and I showed him the car and told him I had to drive it, I had to…he told me he didn’t want me to be stupid alone and sat in the passenger’s seat. I drove uptown and started out onto the highway and ended up crashing into an SUV right after we turned onto the freeway. Hinata…took most of the damage, I think.” 

“Alright,” Komaeda spoke after a moment of silence, sighing through his nose, “thank you for finally telling me. And before I go,” as he talked he stood, pushing in his stool, “I need confirmation that you’re going to get out of the house.” He wrinkled his nose. “This place is disgusting, Souda.” 

“Yeah, I know…fine. I’ll try and get out a little more outside of work. Okay?” He stood as well, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand. The other nodded and began to head for the front door before he was stopped. “Komaeda?” He turned around. “Can…you tell Hinata I’m sorry?” 

“No,” the white-haired boy simply replied, “you have to tell him yourself.” Souda stood in the middle of the room alone and listened as the door slammed shut. 


	5. V : Memory Discovered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Komaeda realizes that his best friend's memory loss can be very benevolent in his favor. Meanwhile, Hinata visits a friend on his down time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is posted so late. i was out earlier today and then i was playing dangan ronpa the rest of the day (its really amazing btw i'm on chapter 3). there is a bit of sex and junk in this chapter but whatever it isnt as bad as blatant chapter three
> 
> a little bit of manipulation on ko's part here but really it isn't that hard to believe imo

 There were times when Komaeda knew how great his luck was. He also had a feeling when the strings of good and bad luck were to end, more often than not balancing each other out. As of late, however, it had been depleting bit by bit, which seemed rather unusual: he might spill some coffee on himself on the way home, or trip and fall and end up hurting his back. But he still returned home to the luckiest thing he could have ever been granted. Of all the times he knew when his luck was at its peak, now was definitely one of those times, without question. 

He had a squirming, writhing Hinata on top of him, barely dressed and roaming his hands all over Komaeda’s body. His boxers were stretched and Komaeda could feel the heat grinding down on his naked body as he moaned. Stars burst behind his eyelids as they achieved a constant friction. They both scrambled to remove the only clothing he had left and Hinata, slicking himself up, pushed himself inside of the other. 

This was something they seemed to be doing a lot of lately. Komaeda would get home and they’d have dinner. Then Hinata would wordlessly pull him into the bedroom and they’d fuck, mercilessly and roughly. Afterwards, they would lay together and the brunette would go through the list of things he’d remembered that day. The list was getting longer, and Komaeda knew that soon something would cause Hinata to remember his whole life, and he would go back to being his normal self. But he wasn’t sure where that left this. The sex, the afterglow, and the whole “relationship” thing. He’d never really had that, and he was sure that he wanted to find some way to keep it. So he pushed his luck. 

“H-Hinata,” he breathed, reaching for his arms as they moved together. “W…Wait.” His hands found Hinata’s, and carefully, he brought their hands to his neck. “Do this…do it.” And Komaeda pressed his hands to his throat, wrapping them around it and locking eyes with him. He was well aware that a Hinata with his memory would be repulsed at the thought of choking him, and that he was manipulating him. But just as the idea of regretting his decision surfaced in his mind Hinata squeezed his throat and thrust himself deep into his body. The breath was literally stolen from Komaeda’s lips as he was thoroughly slammed into over and over, his hands falling limp to his sides as green eyes stared him down. He rode on that breathless high for as long as he could before any remaining air was pulled from his lips as he came, and his eyes rolled back into his head and his vision swam black. 

The air came pooling back into his lungs the moment that he felt Hinata’s warmth spill inside of him, immediately removing his hands from Komaeda’s bony neck. He opened his eyes to watch the brunette fall next to him. The two lay like that together for a while until Hinata fell asleep, and Komaeda stood to wash himself off. 

It continued on for a while like that, and it was probably the most amazing, out-of-this-world sex that Komaeda ever had (he didn’t really have anything to compare it to, but he knew it was the best). It became spontaneous and difficult to predict, spanning from practically jumping white-haired man walked in the door to silent, mischievous touches in the heat of the night. Hinata would be angry about it the moment he got his memory back, and Komaeda was well-aware he should probably stop while he was ahead, but it was just so damn _hard._ But he figured he may as well try. 

Picking the worst moment possible to bring it up, he pulled away from the other while they were kissing and said in a rushed tone, “Y-You should probably start to get out a bit more, Hinata-kun.” 

His eyes were still hazy with lust, but he responded anyways. “I get out. I have doctor’s appointments every week.” And with that, he leaned in in an attempt to close the gap between them again, but Komaeda stuttered and regained his attention. 

“A-Ah, I meant, socially. Other than just your doctor visits, you know? Because as much as I appreciate the attention it is a bit overwhelming and…” he began to ramble, and Hinata, frustrated at whatever mood there was left disappearing, let go of Komaeda’s t-shirt. 

“Do you have a reason that I should?” He asked, and at that moment the taller one realized that Hinata’s decision would be completely dependent on his answer. He could tell by the green eyes trained on him that everything rested upon this moment. He could do what he knew was the right thing to do and tell Hinata that getting out would be healthier for him and would probably help him get his memories back sooner. On the other hand, he could do the selfish thing and hoard him all to himself, doing the same thing he’d been doing for weeks: manipulating him. They would continue to share the same bed, to share the same apartment, and to share each other. 

Komaeda swallowed inaudibly. He was never very good at controlling himself. “I suppose you don’t.” He closed the distance between them permanently and no other words were exchanged for the rest of the night. The nagging feeling was omnipresent in his stomach, but it was getting increasingly easier to ignore. 

 

* * *

 

Hinata realized something after a little bit of consideration, even though Komaeda had taken back his request that he should go outside more. But after the thought was planted in his mind, ideas and inquiries sprouted in his head, seedlings of his imagination. He was right after all. Hinata didn’t get to spend much time outside of his small living space, not counting the glimpses he got when he walked home after an appointment. He was at least grateful for that time, texting Komaeda as soon as he was done and walking back to his apartment. 

He trusted Komaeda (really because he didn’t have much else to go on), but he also trusted his instincts. It seemed that some voice in his head was begging for some time outside, and he decided to just go with it. So on a gloomy Tuesday after his therapy session with Dr. Kirigiri was over, he pulled out his phone and checked the time. Just after one p.m. Komaeda didn’t expect him to be back around three, so he had a little bit of time. Something had been on his mind for a while, so he found a bench to sit on as he scrolled through his contacts. There were at least two dozen names in there, but he decided to pick the only other one he fully recognized that was not Komaeda. Hinata dialed and waited. 

She picked up on the third ring. “…Yes, hello,” her weary voice stated, the sound of a bed creaking in the background. Hinata shifted a bit awkwardly on the bench and rested one of his hands in his jacket pocket. 

“Nanami.” He paused, listening to the sound of something very similar to a yawn. “…Did I wake you up?” 

“No, it’s fine,” Nanami assured, and the brunette found her slow and smooth words somewhat calming. There seemed to be a hint of a smile in her voice. “I returned home late last night from a tournament. I haven’t seen you since you came out of the hospital, Hinata-kun. It’s nice to hear your voice.” 

“Thanks, I guess,” he murmured, not sure why that made him feel better, but he did. 

“What did you need? I haven’t heard from either you or Komaeda for a couple of weeks.” 

“Kazuichi’s address.” 

“…Souda-kun?” 

“Yeah.” 

 They spoke for a little while after she told him Souda’s address, and she ended the conversation with, “I hope your memories come back soon, Hinata-kun. It hasn’t been the same without you around.” She hung up after that, and for a reason that made him feel a bit different. 

It took him about thirty minutes to walk all the way to the ratty end of town where Souda lived, and five minutes by itself in his convoluted apartment complex to make his way to his door. There were a couple of papers piled by the doorstep and a pack of coupons hanging on the doorknob. It took a moment to rethink things through that he actually wanted to be there and then to knock on the door. 

After waiting for several minutes with no sign of anyone home, Hinata was about to turn and go before behind the door was the sound of several locks being undone. As the door creaked open, a man poked his head out. When the two locked eyes the door was flung open, along with a broken voice: “H-Hinata! You’re…did you remember?” 

“Are you Souda?” He stated bluntly, turning his body back to him with both hands in his pockets. The other’s expression fell significantly. His hair was pink but obviously dyed, considering his roots were growing in strong and they were a deep black. He was wearing stained boxers and a dirty white tank top, and looked like he hadn’t bothered to bathe in a while. 

“Guess not,” he sighed, stepping aside. “You can come in if you want; I wasn’t really doing anything anyways.” Souda disappeared into the black of his own apartment, bare feet padding along the floor as the only noise. Hinata gingerly stepped inside and made sure to keep his shoes on, closing the door with his foot. “I didn’t think that you’d find me first, y’know. How did you find me anyways?” his voice called from the kitchen. 

“It’s not important,” Hinata dismissed, shrugging passively. “I wanted to meet you. See if you fit the description that Komaeda gave you in all of those stories.” He looked Souda up and down, seeing as he was standing in the middle of the room. “So far so good.” 

“You sound like him,” the pink-haired man sighed, leaning on the counter, “and you look like him, too. But you still aren’t him. His eyes had so much fire in them, but you just look…blank.” He trained his gaze on the counter and continued to speak. “Maybe he won’t ever come back.” 

“Are you serious?” the brunette went over to where Souda sat, resting his weight on the countertop. “Komaeda told me some weird stories about you, but I didn’t think you would really be _this_ bad.” That seemed to catch him off guard. “Listen, I’m going to take the assumption for the benefit of both of us that this isn’t how you normally are. Let me start off with the fact that I am still Hajime Hinata and you can’t take that away. That’s…really the only thing I started out with and I don’t intend to lose it. Secondly, please, _please_ put yourself back together.” 

“But…you –” 

“I don’t know what happened that caused you to look and act like…whatever you’re doing now, but it isn’t working. For anyone. You’re alone and it pretty much looks like if nothing happens that isn’t going to change anytime soon.” Hinata took a breath as a sharp, throbbing pain beginning to take its place in his head. It was distracting, but he stuttered out a few words anyways. “What – What caused this anyways?” 

“The car accident,” Souda stammered back, “that car accident we got into…both of us. You and me…he didn’t tell you?” Car accident? That sounded…familiar. For the first time Hinata took a look back at Souda and noticed his arm in a dirty cast, hanging limply at his side, utterly useless. 

That stupid throbbing was becoming unbearable. Hinata strained his ears to listen. “Huh?” 

“Komaeda dropped by here a couple of weeks ago. He came to try and get me out of the house and to ask about the accident. I told him the whole thing.” His words were being blurred by radio waves in Hinata’s mind – unable to talk anymore, he gestured with his hand to go on. “The accident, uh…I’d just finished a repair job and I offered you a ride. We got hit hard going onto the highway and you took most of the damage…” 

“Gah…!” Hinata groaned loudly, bracing himself on the counter as his mind was slammed with a sledgehammer repeatedly. Souda was talking – asking him if he was okay – but all he felt was the pain. It felt just like someone was taking a fork and prodding through his brain, picking through whatever they liked. The ache was constant for what felt like a long time, but when it cleared, everything felt clear. The white spaces in his memory were gone and when he blinked he remembered it all. Every earthshaking, groundbreaking moment of that accident and everything before and after it. 

“Souda,” he spoke again, with more intent this time, “I really mean this when I say that you look like shit. Pull yourself together. I’m not angry at you for the accident. In retrospect,” he hummed, “I probably shouldn’t have accepted your offer anyways. But I’m alright now. And I’ve got some things to clear up that aren’t here.” 

“Are…you’re back,” he stuttered, locking eyes with Hinata. He could see the anger back in his eyes, and it was blazing stronger than usual. “I…I can’t believe it. You’re back.” 

But Hinata was already halfway out the door, slamming it shut with twice as much vigor as necessary. Every footstep was firm with determination and his ears were burning with rage. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Komaeda (the first one in a long time without any errors in it.) 

_On my way home now. You are in a world of shit._


	6. VI : Memory Discarded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With his memory returned and a feeling of anger in his stomach, Hinata parts ways with Komaeda, and the latter is desperate to get closure across.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter switches a lot between ko and hinatata, so it goes hinata then komaeda, respectively. in which nanami is everyones guidance counselor
> 
> oh and also you'll get the reason why hinata was so upset about komaeda and shit. by the way sorry i couldn't wait a whole week before posting. the last chapter will be posted on saturday!!

Hinata’s apartment was dusty and made him cough when he first opened the door, but it smelled of home. It smelled of familiarity and comfort, which was definitely something that he needed to sooth his anger. The argument with Komaeda was brief, although it couldn’t really have been described like that, considering that the other didn’t put up much of a fight. He seemed completely accepting of his fate and for some reason that pissed Hinata off even more. He managed to scramble up what little of his belongings were strewn about Komaeda’s apartment and he practically flew the hell out of there. 

His bed was just as cold as he remembered it, but it least it smelled like him. If it had smelled like anyone else he probably would have thrown up. There was so much regret stewing in his stomach that it was beginning to make him feel sick. For once, however, the quiet of his home was welcomed: no other voices filled the air. He tossed his bag onto the floor of his bedroom and rolled over, staring at his ceiling. Wrath flared in his veins and he did his best to ignore it, but all of his mistakes were floating right at the top of his mind. There was a list. A long, long list. 

He got into the same car as Souda, a notoriously reckless driver. He kissed Komaeda. He flirted with Komaeda. He fucked Komaeda. He was fucked by Komaeda. And while he fucked Komaeda he unknowingly gave into one of his stupid kinks and choked him even though _Komaeda had had asthma since fourth grade._ That one was the most stomach curling out of all of them, considering that he had pretty much been aware of that week one when that idiot lost his inhaler on the playground. Come to think of it, he remembered waking up next to him in the mornings and seeing bruises on his collar – _oh God this is not helping._ He needed to get some food in his system before he really did puke. 

Instant ramen tasted blander than the last time he had it, but it was the only thing left in Hinata’s apartment that wasn’t past its expiration date. It tasted like college, which did anything but make him feel better. As he ate, he turned on the dinky television that rested on his kitchen counter and listened to the weather. The weatherman droned on about an incoming winter storm while he shot a text to Dr. Kirigiri, saying that he’d gotten his memory back and if they should continue his sessions. Dr. Kirigiri followed up with a file of a bill, to which he shut his phone off before he could see the total number at the bottom of the screen. 

Solitude, he concluded, was lovely. It was nice without Komaeda breathing down his neck, or the opposite. He glanced at the TV as he slid his bowl into the sink, watching as the easily-forgettable weatherman gestured off to the map. Hinata needed so much stuff, and he had about an hour until the snow hit. The grocery was about five minutes by walk, and if he hurried he would make it back home before the first wave hit. As he left, a single thought passed through his mind before he could stop it: _Komaeda always hated snowstorms._  

* * *

Snow. He hated snow. It always ruined everything: the first Christmas he had without his parents, every winter break he’d had since he started college, not to mention a horrible New Year’s Eve party gone wrong. Whenever Komaeda came home with bits of snow flecked in his hair he’d feel twice as pale and look twice as sickly as usual. He hated snow, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t too fond of him either. 

It was also the only thing in the way of him making his peace with Hinata. He only needed to apologize and leave it at that; there was no way someone like Hinata would so easily forgive a piece of garbage like himself, but he needed closure. He had betrayed his trust and didn’t expect to be forgiven. Solemnly, Komaeda would make his peace with every bit of dignity in his body and then wish that he be happy in his life. He would not beg Hinata to take him back. That would be foolish. 

But that stupid winter advisory warning that kept him inside. All he could do was sit on his couch, alternating between watching the window or the television. Both told him the same thing: like hell he’d be going out anytime soon. His snow boots were dirty and he’d just thrown out his last pair of gloves. As the TV drawled on about the snowfall, he brought out his phone and checked his texts. Still none. No calls, either. He had originally tried getting ahold of Hinata, but of course it didn’t work; all of his calls and texts were rightfully ignored (he managed to stop himself before it got bad). 

Maybe if he got some sleep, he’d be able to sort things out in his mind. _Yeah, that…sounds fine._ Komaeda stood from the couch, not bothering to turn off the television, and headed into his bedroom. As he fell onto it he recognized it no longer felt as small anymore – just the perfect size once again. There was no one there to lay on top of him or curl up next to him. But it still smelled like him and his absence made it even stronger. 

* * *

Hinata appreciated a lot of things about being alone. He enjoyed the jingle of the keys as they hit the counter, the feel of moving around without being watched, and the sight of his slightly disorderly bedroom floor (though he’d only been home for a few hours). The grocery store was, of course, packed, so all he could pick up were essentials here and there in case his power went out. _You’d have to be an idiot to go out in this mess_ , he thought to himself, unpacking the paper bag on his counter and turning the television back on. 

The weatherman was still going on about the same things he’d seen outside, so he mindlessly flipped through a few channels and settled before finishing putting his groceries away. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he thought of ignoring it, but sighed through his nose and checked it anyways. 

There were five new texts on Hinata’s phone, four of which he purposely avoided reading. But the fifth one was from Nanami, which was a pleasant surprise, considering that he could talk to her now while knowing exactly who she was. That wasn’t really a luxury he’d had much as of late. He opened the text only to find that it said _talk to komaeda_

Well, that was the last thing he wanted to hear from her. Hinata frowned. _He’s gotten so desperate that he’s talking to you now? Just ignore him_

She replied swiftly. _this isnt really my problem hinata and id like it if you took over_

Just as he was about to text her back that it wasn’t his problem either, she called him. With a sigh, he picked up and answered, “Nanami, I get that you’re worried, but this really isn’t the best time.” He felt a headache coming back on. 

“I understand, but couldn’t you at least call him?” Nanami paused, the sound of 8-bit fighting in the background. “He’s extremely rash. If you don’t do something he’s going to wind up getting hurt.” Another pause. “I know what he did was irresponsible, but –” 

“It’s not what he did, it’s the fact that he did it while I didn’t know better. Besides, I already talked to him after I got my memory back and he said what he had to say.” 

“Fine,” she sighed, the noise in the background ceasing, “I get it. You’re obviously set in stone about this, so it isn’t any use to try and persuade you. But,” Nanami took one last pause, sounding like she was drinking something, “I want you to at least think about saying something. Not a huge long talk or anything, but something that Komaeda can acknowledge as…closure, I guess.” Just as Hinata was about to add something else the line clicked off, leaving him alone again. 

Despite his best interest, he ignored Nanami’s advice. Hinata didn’t want to talk to Komaeda, because he was well aware that Komaeda would try and manipulate him. He should have been used to it, he supposed, because that was just what Komaeda did. Hinata had a lot of memories of the other in their government class during debate week in high school. Nothing but tricks and underhanded schemes, but he still won all of his debates every time. Who knew that that silver tongue would lure him into his bed? 

Okay, so as Hinata remembered it, maybe having sex was partially his fault, too. And it wasn’t like it was _bad_ or anything, not at all; it was a completely different experience from the one or two girlfriends he’d had in high school. But he knew that if he was in his right mind that they wouldn’t have done it so spontaneously, so frequently, passionately…the fact still stood. Plus, Komaeda deliberately tried to hide Hinata from the outside world. That, itself, was certain. 

Hinata ignored the nagging feeling in his gut that said Nanami was right (something he used to feel a lot) and just decided on making himself something to eat. It was the only thing he could think of to take his mind off of Komaeda. 

* * *

Sleep was stupid anyways, Komaeda decided as he rolled over for the tenth time. Who needed sleep anymore? Not him. No, those bags under his eyes would be the sign of a warrior. A warrior who couldn’t sleep because his bed was too empty and because it was too cold, but a warrior nonetheless. Okay, if he was being honest with himself, it was because Hinata still hadn’t answered him back. He wasn’t expecting an answer anyways, but it still made him fidget. 

Komaeda tumbled out of his bed, blankets hanging around his neck and tangling at his feet. He made for the window and peeked out, only to find that the snow was heavy in the air and coming down fast. They predicted that the snow would go on into the night and would stop sometime around one, leaving them with messy streets and accidents. But sitting around and doing nothing made him feel anxious, and he knew he _had_ to talk to Hinata today or else he would explode. 

The storm howled and slammed on his windows and front door, but determination ran strong through his blood. Komaeda refused to leave ill-prepared, however: he started with socks, then another pair of socks, then pants, another pair of paints, and of course, three shirts. He shuffled on his winter coat and zipped it up, then pulled on his snow boots. He didn’t have any gloves, of course, but he figured if he rolled his sleeves down it would do just as well. By the time he was ready to go out the door, he felt like a marshmallow. All he needed was his cell phone and he would be good to go.

 He shot one last text to Nanami, his support line for the last hour. _Going to Hinata._ After that, Komaeda turned his phone off and shoved it in his pocket, then rolled up his sleeves. He knew how to get to Hinata’s apartment by foot, and he didn’t want to risk of taking the bus, anyways. Taking a final breath, Komaeda opened his front door and stepped out, greeted by a wall of snow. 

* * *

About an hour after she had hung up on him, Hinata received a text from Nanami. _komaedas an idiot and i was right_

* * *

 Holy _shit._ Komaeda had known it was going to be cold, but he had never imagined it would be _that_ cold. The tips of his fingers curled tightly into his jacket and his eyes stung. He slipped twice going down the stairs outside and almost fell over once, managing to still himself by gripping the railing (which, of course, was also freezing). The streets were nearly empty, minus several people attempting to find some shelter. It was snowing so hard that it was nearly snowing sideways, pelting Komaeda’s red and puffy cheeks. 

By the time Komaeda managed to get onto the sidewalk and trudge on, the streets were empty. The road was heavy with five o’clock traffic gone wrong and if he squinted he could see an accident up at the traffic light. He coughed, low in his chest. Hinata’s apartment was five blocks up the street, but he could barely see up this block with all of the white in the way. 

There was a sound other than the annoyed beeping of horns and the occasional hum of deep bass when he passed a car. It was hazy and weak, but constant in Komaeda’s ears. He coughed again and decided to disregard it. Whatever it was couldn’t have been as important as where he was going. 

His boots felt heavier on his feet with each passing step. The snow was piling up fast, lodging itself in the creases of his clothing and slipping down his jacket. He’d lost count of the number of times he had to pull his hood back up, leaving his fingers frozen and bitter. Maybe he should have dug those old gloves out of the trash; it would have been better than nothing. 

That sound was getting louder, more noticeable. It was getting increasingly harder to ignore, and Komaeda coughed again. And again. Then he stopped walking, coughs wracking through his body and shaking his legs. The sound was him. Komaeda was wheezing, each breath growing faster and louder and he couldn’t stop coughing. When he did stop, his breath grew more and more hoarse. The wind seemed louder now and even more powerful than before. As an old habit, his hands scrambled inside his pockets for his inhaler as his eyes grew blurry. 

It was too much. His head was spinning and his limbs felt like air. But if he strained to see through the snow his goal was in sight. The stairs would be difficult, but he’d find a way. With that in mind, Komaeda trudged forward, twice as slow as before, wheezing and coughing. He managed to take one, two, three, four steps before his vision swam, his knees quivered, and he fell forward right into the snowy pavement.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more quick thing; i wanted to thank all of you guys that have read this, left kudos, and especially commented! with the last chapter this fic was boosted past 1000 hits and 100 kudos and wowie i really appreciate that. its really amazing. thank you for reading and i hope that the finale is satisfactory!


	7. VII : Memory Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Closure. But not the kind they expect.

When he woke up, he was alone in a calm, soft, blue-white room. The first thing he registered was his hands, both wrapped in bandages and an IV prodding into his arm. Komaeda groaned softly, taking a cautious, slow breath in. His lungs burned a few times, but after a bit of test breathing he felt fine. A bit light-headed, but he was still alright. The room was very similar to the one he visited Hinata in when Hinata was first in the hospital, but without nearly as many machines. 

There was a heating pad nestled snugly up his back, resting between his skin and his hospital gown. There was also a bandage on the right side of his forehead. A chair was pulled up to the side of his bed. When he turned his head to the right, there was a small vase of daisies on his bedside cart, and a card. After a brief inspection, he saw that the flowers were from Sonia and Gundam, and the card from Souda. Nothing from Hinata, of course, but nothing from Nanami either. That was a surprise. 

How long had he been in the hospital that there had been time to buy him a card and send him flowers? That in itself was a bit concerning, but Komaeda was hoping his memory was just faulty. It had been a long time since he’d been in a hospital for himself, but he remembered it well. The cleanly smell, the sound of bustling activity outside his door, the feeling of quiet bordering on uneasy. While the IV was annoying and somewhat invasive, and all he wanted to do was get up, he knew better. All there was to do was wait. 

But Komaeda didn’t wait long. After about a minute, there was a brief knock on the door, followed by a female doctor holding a clipboard. A thin, somewhat condescending smile spread across her face. “I seem to remember you from visiting a patient before,” came her voice, clinical and calculating. His eyes widened as he recognized her face. “You’re Nagito Komaeda, right? You were here about two months ago for another patient. Can’t remember his name. I’m sure it’ll come.” He stared at her, mouth open, unsure of how to respond. “Anyways, it’s good you’re awake. You’ve been out for a while. For now, you’ve got a visitor. I’ll send a nurse in in about thirty minutes for a vital check.” 

 _Ah. A visitor. That can’t be right._ It seemed odd to Komaeda to have a visitor, but he was too dazed to really say anything. His eyes followed the doctor out the room and he waited to see who this visitor was. He had a gut feeling that it was Nanami, but his gut hadn’t been right much lately. Just as he began to drift off the door slammed back open and in came a furious green eyed brunette man. 

“You,” he rumbled, “are probably the most senseless, thoughtlessness, careless person that I have ever come across. Nobody but you would make me come out of my quiet, warm apartment to go to the hospital on the coldest day of the year.” His grip on the doorknob turned his knuckles white, and he took a moment after letting it go to move towards his bed. “You have no clue. If I seemed upset before than you haven’t seen anything yet.” 

“H…Hinata-kun…!” Komaeda felt his eyes light up, and his breath was caught in his throat again. His hands felt weak. “You, You’re…you’re here, why…?” He locked eyes and didn’t dare let go of his gaze for fear he would blink and the other would be gone. 

“I can’t believe you,” Hinata growled, but as he talked he sat down in the chair by Komaeda’s bed. His tone, though strong, quieted down a touch. “You had an asthma attack in the middle of the street. While it was snowing. With winds up to twenty miles per hour. Did you have a death wish?” There was a flicker of concern badly masked in his green eyes, Komaeda noticed. 

“But…you were so mad. I’d never seen you that angry before. I didn’t even get to talk…” As much as he wanted to be happy, he was so, _so_ confused. He had to get that out of the way first. 

“Don’t be mistaken,” the brunette reassured somewhat coldly, leaning in just a bit, “I’m still livid with you. But it wasn’t all your fault. A lot of it definitely was, but not all of it. I wouldn’t have gotten amnesia if I hadn’t gotten in a car with Souda. That much is true.” 

These words were spurring him on, and Komaeda fumbled to grab Hinata’s hand. The other tensed visibly, but relaxed after a moment. “I was going to see you, Hinata-kun…I had to talk to you just to know what you would say. Even in the cold I had to brave it just for you,” he blurted, and he tensed again. 

“Oh no, you aren’t pinning the blame to this one on me. Listen, Komaeda,” Hinata spoke, and Komaeda struggled to interject, “Komaeda. _Nagito_ ,” he tried one last time, and the white-haired man was silenced, lips parted at the use of his name. “This one I had nothing to do with. No, I didn’t answer your calls or texts but I don’t see anything wrong with that. I needed space,” he tried, and slipped his hand away from Komaeda’s but the other reached for it again. “You were the one who went outside during high winds. You did that, not me. And you didn’t bring your inhaler.” At that, Hinata raised his eyebrows, as if asking for an explanation. 

“I forgot,” he whined childishly and weakly, tilting his head. A silence hung in the air before Komaeda decided to speak again. “What I wanted to tell you was…well. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I knew it was foolish to control you like I did but I did it anyways. It was selfish and weak and…” 

A knock came from the door, intruding on the both of them. They simultaneously let go of each other’s hands and turned their gazes to the doorway, expecting the doctor, but they were greeted by someone much smaller and younger. “It seems like I’m interrupting something,” she spoke, and she smiled, almost lazily. 

“Nanami,” they both muttered, caught off guard. Komaeda smiled sheepishly, sitting up slightly in his bed. “I was wondering why you hadn’t sent anything.” 

She moved closer, slow and relaxed in her movements, stopping at the foot of the bed. “I called you a couple of times, but apparently you haven’t checked your phone. It wouldn’t be a first,” Nanami chided slightly, raising her eyebrows. A sigh flowed from her lips and she looked at the both of them, almost with pity in her expression. “You two seem to get in a lot of trouble very easily. Maybe I should keep a closer eye on the both of you.” 

The three of them exchanged a few light words, all casual and soft. The doctor returned a few minutes later and said that Komaeda would have to use his inhaler several times a day for a week until he would be back to normal, but overall it was nothing serious. Just as Nanami volunteered to get Komaeda’s release papers he admitted that he was starving, and they all agreed to get some food on the way home, with Nanami driving. It was all very much a sense of deja-vu, but it was more pleasant than the last time around. 

They all walked together down the hallways, Nanami absentmindedly jingling her keys as they continued on in pleasant conversation. It was odd, all of it: his closest friends coming to visit him in the hospital and taking him home. The strangest thing, however, was Hinata’s voice in Komaeda’s ear, whispering, “I want to see you more.” After a look of confusion from the taller, he elaborated a bit slowly, “You won’t get in trouble as often if I’m with you.” 

Despite the fact that Hinata kept insisting that he was still upset with him, Komaeda knew that he was safe when Hinata reached down and laced their hands together as they walked out of the hospital. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!! what a weird ending. but i hope it was somewhat...happy. i've been out all day so sorry i couldn't update sooner but i'm glad i did. i hope you liked this fic. i dont know when i'm writing my next komahina, but i hope you guys will read it then!


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